Books — Bringing People Together Since 1450

We people — we social animals — love stories. We're fascinated by the experiences of others; we enjoy sharing our own. Be it around a campfire, in a bar, or (since approximately 1450) in books folks have a lot to share with one another.

The book has added a dimension to the sharing process that literary geeks thrive on: the connection made by a cover, a name, a place, an image, an idea contained by the physical object. We connect with people we never thought we'd know, places we never thought we'd see, experiences we never thought we'd have. Worlds not even of our making can bring us together in strange ways.

I was traveling the week after the sixth Harry Potter book was released. It was everywhere during my travels. Fellow airplane passengers nodded to each other, smiled in recognition of another member of the tribe of Potter, and compared notes careful avoid spoilers. When I found myself weeping at the death of Dumbledore, I paused my reading for a moment to surreptitiously glance around, embarrassed to be crying in public once again. But then I heard tell-tale sniffling coming from the seats behind me and knew I was not alone. Another anecdote: on our first date, my now husband Tony decided I really was a person to get to know when he looked at the books on the shelves in my apartment. Thomas Pynchon may have something to do with our marriage.

So imagine yourself at a dinner, seated at a table with an author and other booksellers. Everyone is telling stories because that's what we humans do. All of a sudden you can bear keeping your secret no longer, so you turn to the author sitting next to you and blurt out, "My Grandfather built your fire tower." The author's mouth drops open. Conversation at the table stops. You explain slowly at first, then the words rush out. And the stories — the connections — begin again. You're trading tales about the cemetery in a little town no one's heard of, an inn keeper's turkey, your grand dad and his time in the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps). Suddenly you've not only discovered a great new author, you've rediscovered a part of your world long buried and learned more about it from a new friend.

That happened to me last September at a dinner in Denver. I met an author whose isolated job and workplace connects with my family in so many ways it's quite remarkable and very nearly creepy. I began his book thinking I'd read a nice piece of nature writing about a part of the country with which I'm intimate. Instead, I discovered a great book by a wonderful writer who admires many of the authors I do. I reconnected with my past.

The book is Fire Season: Field Notes from a Wilderness Lookout by Philip Connors. Your life may have no connection with his work in a New Mexico fire tower. But I bet you'll find a connection with an extraordinary book about a life of solitude in the West. You can meet him here on Saturday, April 9th at 6 p.m.

Click here for the Salt Lake Tribune's interview with Philip.
Click here for the Deseret News article about Fire Season.